Coup de Printemps
by Marla Fair
Summary: Another story for the 1000 word 'Pennings from Prompts' challenge on Bonanza Boomers. Ben Cartwright just wants to cool off after a long day busting broncos but his family has other ideas.


_Coup de Printemps_

Ben Cartwright reined in the big black horse he was riding. He'd been busting broncos all day and his shirt and leather chaps were covered in dust. Almost too tired to move, he swung out of the saddle and dropped to the ground and headed for the water trough. Removing his hat, Ben ran a hand through his gun-metal gray hair and wiped the back of his sleeve across his forehead before looking up at the sky. It wasn't quite summer yet, but the late spring day was hot and dry and he was feeling it. After working the pump, he bent down to let the cold water wash over his neck and head.

Making his backside a perfect, if unintended, target.

Ben heard the shout even as something plowed into him, causing him to lose his balance and plummet headlong into the trough.

"Hoss! No!"

Too late.

Dripping water, Ben sat up and looked over the side of the trough. There, rising above the wooden wall, was a cherubic face surrounded by a soft halo of reddish-blond hair. His six-year-old son's bright blue eyes were wide with excitement.

"Hi there, Pa!" Eric Hoss Cartwright exclaimed as if addressing his father half-submerged was one of the most normal things in the world.

"Er...sorry, Pa. I was trying to corral him." Ben blew water out of his nose and sneezed as Adam came to the side of the trough. "You want I should get you a handkerchief?" Adam asked, his full lips twisting. "I think yours is wet."

Ben started to reply, but the reply turned into a shout as Hoss got 'that' look in his eyes and started to scramble over the edge of the trough.

"Hoss. No. No! _Hoss!"_

When the seas had settled, Hoss' head appeared, rearing up out of the water like a whale jumping for joy. This, of course, sent even _more_ of the liquid splashing over the trough's sides onto the ground. As Adam jumped back, trying to save his boots, Hoss gripped his nose with one hand, waved the other high above his head, and dove again.

Now, Hoss wasn't a small boy. At the age of six, he was the size of most ten year olds.

And there wasn't all that much room in the trough.

Ben tried to scramble out of the way, but he scrambled the _wrong_ way and ended up whacking his head on the faucet of the pump.

Adam caught him by the collar before he could drown.

"What's the matter, Pa?" Hoss asked as he came up for air. "You ain't lookin' too good."

"He's right, Pa," Adam remarked soberly. "You look like a drowned rat."

"Ah, but is he not the _handsomest_ rat you have ever seen?" a light voice remarked.

Ben's head was still smarting. The only good thing about that was, instead of one beautiful wife, it seemed he had two.

Both Maries' lips trembled as they fought to contain their amusement. "Poor lamb," the closest one breathed.

"Pa ain't no lamb!" Hoss declared. "He's a fish! "Ain't you, Pa?" Thereafter the little boy proceeded to imitate one, moving his hands in and out and making popping noises with his pickled lips.

"I am not a fish!" Ben declared as he tried to right himself. Instead he slipped and ended up splashing more water into his son's face. As the boy chortled, he said firmly, "What I am is _very_ tired and _very_ wet and _very_ uncomfortable, and – "

"Benjamin," Marie scolded with a shake of her head.

"What?" he snapped. "Have _you_ ever tried sitting in two feet of water in leather chaps?"

"It will be most uncomfortable when you get out and they dry, no?" Marie's lips quirked. "In certain places?"

Adam snorted and then grew very serious. "I think you're man enough to take it, Pa."

Ben looked at his family with disbelief. His youngest son was trying to float. Adam was whistling and looking at the sky. Then there was Marie. His beautiful wife had wandered over closer to the trough and was giving Hoss instructions on how to keep the lower half of his body afloat.

"Have you all gone mad?" he asked at last.

"Are _you_ mad, Pa?" Hoss asked as he righted himself.

"No." Ben rolled his eyes. "I asked if _you_ were mad!"

The little boy frowned. "I ain't mad, Pa. Whatever would I have to be mad for?"

Acting on some sixth sense, Adam leaned in and reached for his brother. With one hand under each arm, he uprooted Hoss from the water. As the boy started to protest, his oldest son remarked, "Isn't that Hop Sing I hear calling?"

Hoss' blue eyes went wide. "Hot diggety!" he shouted as he planted his feet on the trough's edge and pushed off – sending Adam flying.

As Adam chased Hoss toward the ranch house, Ben thought about getting up.

He decided – in the end – he was safer in the trough.

" _C'est la fièvre du printemps, mon amour_ ," Marie said with a little shrug. "It is the spring fever."

"Spring fever," he harrumphed. "Seems to me that phrase is used to excuse a good deal of indecent and irresponsible behavior."

His wife seemed to be considering what he said. "And this behavior, it is bad? _Non?"_

"No." Ben shook his head, sending missiles of water flying. "Yes."

"And the people in the town say _I_ am bad? _Oui?"_

He backed up against the edge of the trough. "Marie, what are you... _What_ are you doing?"

She'd lifted her skirts and stepped into the trough. A moment later she sat down, straddling his wet leather trousers, and then leaned forward and pressed her soaking wet form into his.

Ben scowled fiercely – and then smiled broadly.

"Marie Cartwright, you are one _wicked_ woman."

Marie nipped his lower lip with her teeth. A passionate kiss came next, followed by a...well...disturbance in the water.

Ben let out a sigh.

This was one fever he never wanted to break.


End file.
